


Cognitive Dissonance

by QueenofBaws (Sisterwives)



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Existential Angst, Gen, Worrisome behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 15:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sisterwives/pseuds/QueenofBaws
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When in doubt, everyone does it. To quiet the worry and doubt, to quell the fear and anger, to help get by. It's nothing to be ashamed of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cognitive Dissonance

"No.  _No_. It's…it's unthinkable." He hung his head, fingers knotting tightly enough in his hair to cause his scalp significant pain. "I couldn't."  
  
"Well why not? What is there to lose?"  
  
"Everything!" Untangling his fingers, he slammed a fist on the countertop. It made a flat, unimportant sound, too weak to even echo. "I could lose  _everything_. If Lord Ansem has even the  _slightest_  reason to suspect my motives…"  
  
"But he  _won't_. Not for a moment, and you know that, don't you? You can do no wrong, in that man's eyes. You're a prodigy--"  
  
"Stop."  
  
"A genius--"  
  
" _Stop_."  
  
"One day you'll rule over this world, just as he has. What leader shrinks back in the face of opportunity?"   
  
" _Stop_!" His chest was becoming impossibly tight, heart racing madly, having caught up to his traitorous brain. " _Please_. Just…stop. They can't expect this of me. He can't… _you_ can't…"  
  
"But I  _do_."  
  
With some difficulty, he swallowed, bile and fear thick and acidic on the back of his tongue. He was shaking--trembling--though he was loathe to admit it. Prodigies did not tremble. Geniuses did not tremble. Future Lords  _did not tremble_. "What Xehanort is asking of me is madness."  
  
"No. What Ansem asks is madness. How can  _he_ , a man of knowledge and wisdom--a man of  _science_ \--expect you to throw this all away? Because he is frightened, the world must suffer in their ignorance?"   
  
"The darkness is dangerous," he moaned, feeling suddenly lightheaded, suddenly dizzy.   
  
"Man fears what he does not understand."  
  
"People have  _died_!"  
  
"And think of all the data we've collected. Every study has its cost."  
  
Silence fell as he slumped against the wall, head cradled in the junction of the walls. For a short time, he listened to the muted, rhythmic dripping of the faucet, each pitter at once steeling his resolve and eroding his uncertainty. "It's not that I'm  _frightened_ ," he said finally, mouth dry and cottony.   
  
"I know."  
  
"And it's not that I don't  _want to_."  
  
"Believe me, I  _know_."  
  
He covered his face with his hands, eyes screwed shut tightly. Dimly lit as the room was, a faint red light still filtered through his eyelids. He found himself wishing, inexplicably, for it to go out. The air felt too hot, now, heated by the naked bulb and its illumination. He was suddenly craving the cool touch of shadow on his face, his burning skin. "You know how hard I've worked to gain his trust."  
  
" _So_  hard."   
  
"If I do this," his hands slid to his own shoulders, trying to press away the anxious aches only just beginning to bloom. "If I do this, I throw that all away. He will  _never_ trust me again. How can you know this endeavor is worth it?"  
  
"How can you know it is not?"  
  
He shook his head, feeling an impossible laugh start to bubble up from somewhere deep inside him. "I hate you. I  _hate_  you so much…"  
  
"Not half so much as  _I_  hate  _you_ , I'm sure."  
  
The laughter came forth, but so too did the first pricklings of tears behind his eyes. "Xehanort  _believes in me_."  
  
"He does.  _Oh_  how he does."  
  
"None of the others do. They treat me like a  _child_."  
  
"How could they ever  _hope_  to understand your talents, when they are so terribly lacking in their own? You astound them, mystify them…"  
  
" _I do_!"  
  
"You  _scare_  them."  
  
"Maybe they  _should_  be scared, then. I am  _brilliant_."  
  
"You are."  
  
"I can do things none of them could  _dream_  of!"  
  
"Things of nightmares."  
  
"Xehanort  _sees_  that, where they don't. He understands, he…he  _respects_  me."  
  
"Like any  _true_  colleague would."  
  
His chest was tight again, in a decidedly different way. The bare bulb had begun buzzing, flickering restlessly. He dug his fingers into the porcelain sink bowl until he felt one of his nails crack, a sharp agony shooting up his arm. But he paid if no mind. It was, in a frightening sort of way, wonderfully reassuring. "He knows what I'm capable of."  
  
"He truly appreciates your abilities."  
  
"Intellectual and otherwise."  
  
"He  _understands_  you."  
  
"He only wants what's best."  
  
"Advancement in the scientific community. How could one paltry hypothesis do as much damage as Ansem claims? Really, now."  
  
"Every study has its cost."  
  
"And really, those who expire at the hands of the darkness…perhaps they simply _deserve_  it."  
  
"It hasn't affected  _me_  at all."  
  
"It certainly hasn't."  
  
"They were weak. They were all too weak." The bulb dimmed and brightened erratically, humming and buzzing and dying. " _Pathetic_. They couldn't survive a mere brush with their own darkness."  
  
"How very, very sad."  
  
" _We_  should not be punished for their weakness.  _We_  should not be penalized for their fears."  
  
"Then you know what has to be done."  
  
At that, the light fizzled out entirely, plunging the room into pitch blackness. The shadows brought with them an immediate comfort, and he sighed in relief as the first cool tendrils of darkness unknotted the tension in his gut and neck. When he chanced a look up, the eyes in front of him gleamed sharply yellow, the eyes of a predator hidden in the shade. "I know what has to be done," he parroted, staring deep into the bright, all-seeing eyes not a foot from his own face. "I  _know_."  
  
Without warning, the door was flung open, light once more filling the room. He cringed away, almost as though he'd been wounded, instead of simply taken aback.  
  
"I have been calling your name for five minutes now,  _child_ ," Even snapped, and  _oh_ how he hated that  _word_. "What on Earth have you been  _doing_  in there, that you couldn't hear me?"  
  
"Nothing," Ienzo muttered, masterfully keeping any trace of indignation out of his tone, even as he squinted against the unwanted light. "I was merely…" he cast a long, appraising look at the mirror in front of him, "…talking to myself."   
  
He pushed his way past Even, out of the bathroom, and his reflection turned to watch him go, a slow, lazy smirk revealing rows upon rows of pointed teeth. Ienzo pulled the door shut behind him.


End file.
